Hangman
i've tied myself into knots of
fantasies twisted like charms and
spells around me that have finally
pulled tight in a noose around my neck,
cutting into my carotid and tying off
my air. my blood is freezing still
in my veins, my hands
at my neck, my toes tingling as i realize
how far i am off the ground—no hope
of touching down again. the burn
is creeping up my lungs and under
my eyes, scorching spots in my
vision where i used to have oxygen, i used
to see you. i'm watching
you spin away in slow motion and
the whirling makes me sick. i can't
let go to take your hand without crashing
down out of the sky blue like
your eyes into a box six feet under
the stars where i'll bury my dreams next
to my heart bled dry for you. you're moving
away, waning like the moon, and i'll be
left behind with an empty night. i'm losing
my grip on the balloons that carried me high
up here; every day they pop pop pop and
i sink, slip, begin to fall and close
my eyes, afraid of the pavement splatter.
i know it's coming so i tried
to drown my dreams in the bathroom sink but
my breath was lost in the soap bubbles;
i have to hold on to you to keep my eyes open.